Christmas Dreaming
by chocolatequeen
Summary: Continuation of Dreams May Die and Only in My Dreams
1. Blue Christmas

I'm doing my Christmas dreaming  
  
A little early this year  
  
No sign of snow around  
  
And yet I go around  
  
Hearing jingle bells ringing in my ear  
  
Your promise must be the reason  
  
The happy season is here  
  
So I'm doing my Christmas dreaming  
  
A little early this year  
  
So I'm doing my Christmas dreaming  
  
A little early this year  
  
A/N: The prologue might be a bit hard to follow, so I'll explain the time thing quickly. Syd's part takes place on about the 17th of December—which is also when Chapter 1 picks up. Vaughn's part is on the 22nd, directly before the main action of the story beginning in chapter 2. Lauren's is on the 24th, and is actually more of an epilogue... but I'm putting it here. Remember, a prologue is designed to set up the action, to get you interested, to make you ask questions... it's not supposed to answer them.  
  
Prologue: Blue Christmas  
  
Sydney's POV  
  
It's Christmas. Yay.  
  
I'm sorry, I know I should be more excited. It's the season of giving, of love and goodwill... but maybe that's my problem. I don't have anyone to love. Did you know that more suicides occur around the holidays than at any other time of the year? All those lonely people, surrounded by happiness and yet feeling like they don't belong... I can understand it.  
  
I'm not going to let myself get down though, not anymore than usual anyway. That's why I'm throwing a Christmas party; I thought it would help me from sitting alone in my house on Christmas Eve, feeling sorry for myself.  
  
It's hard though. The last two Christmases that I remember, Vaughn and I were... well, Vaughn and I. Even though we weren't together, there was that aura of possibility, that delicious feeling of anticipation that fits in so well with the season. Now that's gone, and all I've got under my tree are memories.  
  
Vaughn's POV  
  
Christmas came again. Somehow I feel surprised, the way I did after Sydney died. "It came without boxes, it came without bags..." How can Christmas come without Sydney? Last year it was easier; I'd begun to move on with my life, I was happy with Lauren. It was our first Christmas together and it was... pleasant at least.  
  
This year is different. I can tell it is not going to be pleasant. In a few hours, we'll be leaving for Sydney's Christmas party. I'll have to be there with my wife, celebrating the season with her, when that's not really what I want at all.  
  
So here I am, just like the children in The Night Before Christmas. I too have visions dancing in my head, but they're not of sugar plums, they're of Christmas past and Christmas present, and perhaps even Christmas future. As I lie here next to my wife, my dreams are an odd mash of different Christmas stories, and I can't help but wonder which dream will come true.  
  
Lauren's POV  
  
I can't believe this. I'm sitting in an airport on Christmas Eve... alone. There are millions of people bustling around me, filled with holiday cheer and anticipation. They're flying home to loved ones, anxious to spend the holiday with their families—families consisting of wives and husbands that love each other.  
  
I have none of that. The family I am going to has never wanted me, the family I am leaving no longer needs me. Everything I thought I had has disappeared, leaving me alone.  
  
I'll have a blue Christmas without you  
  
I'll be so blue just thinkin' about you  
  
Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree  
  
Won't be the same dear if you're not here with me  
  
And when the blue snowflakes start fallin'  
  
That's when the blue memories start callin'  
  
You'll be doin' alright with your Christmas of white  
  
And I'll have a blue, blue Christmas  
  
You'll be doin' alright with your Christmas of white  
  
And I'll have a blue, blue Christmas  
  
And I'll have a blue, blue Christmas  
  
And I'll have a blue, blue Christmas. 


	2. No Sign of Snow Around

Chapter 1: No Sign of Snow Around  
  
"Absolutely not!" Jack's raised voice caught Lauren's attention as she walked past the conference room. Wondering what Sydney's request was, she hovered near the door so she could listen in.  
  
"But Dad..."  
  
"No Sydney, I won't do it."  
  
"Come on Dad, I just want to have a perfect Christmas party!" she pleaded.  
  
"And why is it necessary to humiliate me in order to do so?"  
  
"Dad, it's a Santa suit. That's not humiliating, it's... festive!"  
  
"Holly is festive, plastic snowmen in the yard are festive, even mistletoe is festive! This is just..."  
  
"It's just what I want," Sydney broke in. "Please Dad?" she said in a much quieter tone.  
  
"It's really that important to you?"  
  
"I want a normal Christmas Dad... sugar cookies, eggnog, and Santa. After everything I've been through I deserve that much don't you think?"  
  
"What time do you want me to show up?" Jack asked, resigning himself to an evening of ridicule.  
  
"Come over around five o'clock and help me set up, and then you can change into your Santa suit right before the guests start arriving."  
  
"And what day is this?"  
  
"This Friday Dad, you know that!" Sydney exclaimed, exasperated.  
  
"Fine, I'll be there."  
  
"With bells on," she added teasingly as she stepped toward the door.  
  
When the voices started to come closer to her hiding spot, Lauren straightened up and moved away from where she had been eavesdropping. She was still walking away when the door opened behind her.  
  
It was obvious to Jack that Lauren had overheard part of their conversation. He suspected it wasn't entirely on accident, but either way, now that she knew about the party Sydney was practically obligated to invite her. Catching his daughter's eye, he gestured toward the other woman, making it clear what he wanted her to do.  
  
Sydney stared at the other woman's retreating form, struggling to come to a decision. Part of her wasn't sure she wanted to spend an entire evening off watching Vaughn with his wife, but if she was honest with herself she wanted Vaughn to be there, if only so they could pretend to be normal friends who could enjoy a holiday party together. "Lauren!" she called finally.  
  
"Yes Sydney?" Lauren asked as she turned to face her.  
  
"I'm having a Christmas party on Friday, would you and Vaughn... Michael... would you care to come?" she asked.  
  
Lauren was quiet for a moment, wondering if the invitation was genuine or only offered for appearance's sake. "Maybe I should decline," she pondered. A frown crossed her face when she realized that would be fitting with the way she had been acting around Sydney lately. She'd been tiptoeing around her at work and Michael at home, trying to avoid the situation as much as possible. "It's time to take back control of my life," she told herself firmly. "We'd love to come Sydney," she replied warmly, hiding an inner smile at the fleeting look of surprise on the other woman's face.  
  
"Maybe this Christmas we'll finally pull out of the shadow of the last two years... all three of us," she mused as she walked away. 


	3. It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christ...

Chapter 2: It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas  
  
Sydney's house, December 23rd at 10:00 AM  
  
"Hm... maybe it should go a little to the left," Sydney mused, gazing at the evergreen bough she was trying to hang on the wall. But before she could move it, the phone rang, interrupting her concentration. "Hello?" she said distractedly, her mind on the decorations she had left to hang.  
  
"Syd! Have you looked outside yet today??"  
  
"Weiss! What are you talking about? I've been standing in my living room for the last hour decorating for my party, why would I want to go outside? You do know the party is tonight right?"  
  
"Of course I do! Just go look outside Syd!" he insisted.  
  
Sydney turned toward the window with a sigh, wondering what silly thing he was trying to show her this time. Last time he'd called her, there had been a tower of beer cans outside her door, ready for her to topple over with a stick. However, this time it was something better. "Oh!"  
  
"Isn't it great? Snow for Christmas! I can't remember the last time we had a white Christmas—and just in time for your party too!" he rambled on.  
  
"Weiss! You're babbling," Sydney cut in with a laugh.  
  
"Sorry... but isn't it great?" he asked again, unable to control his enthusiasm.  
  
"Yes, it's great," she answered truthfully, pushing practical concerns like slick roads out of her mind for a moment while she let herself be caught up in his enthusiasm. "It's beautiful, thanks for telling me. Now I've got things I need to do."  
  
"Sure, I'll see you tonight Syd. Merry Christmas!"  
  
Vaughn residence, 6:00 PM  
  
Vaughn stared out the window, frowning at the snow that was still coming down outside. "It's been snowing all day," he muttered. When is it going to let up?"  
  
Normally he loved snow—it reminded him of winter trips with his father. Today though the weather was a reflection of his bleak mood. He was not looking forward to Sydney's party at all, and who could blame him? Spending an entire evening socializing with his ex-girlfriend while your wife is by your side doesn't exactly inspire holiday cheer.  
  
"And I have to get out on the road with all the idiot drivers who don't know how to drive in snow... Merry Christmas Michael," he said sarcastically.  
  
"Wait a minute... snow, driving... Lauren!" he called out, a smile crossing his face for the first time all day. Mother Nature had given him the perfect excuse to cancel.  
  
"What is it Michael?"  
  
"Honey, it's still snowing."  
  
"I know, isn't it wonderful? A white Christmas!"  
  
"It'll make the roads slick though Lauren. Maybe we ought to stay home tonight," he suggested, not completely successful at masking his hope.  
  
"I'm really looking forward to this party Michael," Lauren replied.  
  
"I know you are, but I'm sure Sydney would understand."  
  
"Actually she called about an hour ago to make sure we were still coming and I told her we were. We can make it Michael, it's not that bad."  
  
"If you really want to go that badly then we'd better get going," he agreed reluctantly. "This weather isn't going to improve and the holiday traffic will be murder."  
  
"Just let me grab my coat and I'll be ready to go," she said with a small smile that turned to an expression of relief once she left the room. She knew why he hadn't wanted to go and it had nothing to do with the weather. He didn't want to be in the same room with her and Sydney both outside of work. That was part of her master plan though, and she was determined to see it through. "Surely if he sees us together he'll be able to remember who it is he belongs with," she whispered uncertainly as she slipped her coat on.  
  
"What was that honey?" he asked from behind her, making her jump.  
  
"What? Oh nothing, I was just talking to myself," she covered quickly.  
  
"Well are you ready to go then?"  
  
His abrupt tone and constant frown did nothing to dispel her growing doubts, but she nodded firmly and moved toward the door. "Absolutely," she said with a confidence she didn't feel. 


	4. You May Say There's No Such Thing as San...

Chapter 3: No Such Thing as Santa?  
  
"Dad! Someone's here," Sydney told him as she watched from the window.  
  
"That's nice sweetheart, I think I'll just go in the kitchen..." Jack replied, trying to sneak away.  
  
"Oh no you don't, you're going to help me greet our guests," she said, yanking him toward the door and opening it to admit Dixon. "Dixon! Merry Christmas!"  
  
"Merry Christmas to you too Sydney," he said, handing her the bottle of wine he carried. "And Jack? Is that really you?" he asked, hiding a smile behind his hand.  
  
"Yes it's me Dixon," Jack said with a nod. "Why don't you shut the door Sydney?" Jack suggested. "You're letting the snow in."  
  
Sydney moved to obey, but was halted by a shout from the walk. "Wait up!" Weiss hollered. "Don't shut me out here!"  
  
"Merry Christmas Weiss," she said as she re-opened the door. Jack quickly left the living room for the safety of the kitchen. There was no way he was going to put up with the same reaction to his costume over and over. It would be better if he just came out when they had all arrived and got it over with. Besides, from here he could hear everything that was going on and see new arrivals walking up the sidewalk.  
  
"Feliz Navidad!" Weiss replied boisterously as he shut the door behind him. "And here is a gift for you, my lovely," he added, giving her a brightly wrapped gift.  
  
"You've been watching Pirates of the Caribbean too much Weiss," she said, shaking her head in amusement. "You keep using pirate lingo. Someday I really need to borrow that movie from you so I can see what I missed," she added as she started opening her present.  
  
"Actually, you don't need to," Weiss said smugly when he saw the surprised look on her face. "You've got your own now."  
  
"Aye, that I do! Thanke kindly Weiss," she said with a grin.  
  
"You're welcome lass, but don't be trying to out-pirate me now. I'm Captain Eric Weiss!"  
  
"In your dreams!" she said, giving him a good-natured shove.  
  
"Sydney, Carrie and Marshall are almost to the door," Jack said, sticking his face back in the living room.  
  
"Thanks Dad," Sydney said and opened the door to let her heavily pregnant friend in. "Carrie! Marshall! I'm so glad you could both make it," she said warmly, taking their coats and handing them to Jack to hang up.  
  
"Well we wanted one last night out before the baby comes," Marshall said. "I mean, not that having a baby means you don't ever get to go out again, well it does but that's not a bad thing, it's just different but "Different is Good" like the old Arby's slogan said..."  
  
"Marshall. I think they understand," Carrie said with a quelling look.  
  
"Right, right. After all Mr. Dixon and Agent Bristow have both had children themselves so they understand what it's like. I bet they know more about it than we do, don't you? You guys could probably give us some real pointers... Wow! Agent Bristow, you sure do know how to get into the holiday spirit! Look Carrie, he's dressed as Santa! Did you do that for Sydney when she was a little girl?" Marshall asked, his eyes wide.  
  
"Not really Marshall," Jack said, managing to look completely at home in his outfit.  
  
"So Jack, you look good in red," Weiss said, a wide grin on his face.  
  
"Don't push it Mr. Weiss," Jack warned as Sydney opened the door for Vaughn and Lauren.  
  
"What's going on?" Vaughn asked curiously, his voice low.  
  
"Weiss is pestering Dad about being Santa Claus," Sydney told him with a grin.  
  
"Ah, this should be good."  
  
"Can I sit on your lap and give you my Christmas list?" Eric asked, ignoring the glint that appeared in the older agent's eye.  
  
"You know what they say Mr. Weiss," Jack said and then sang,  
  
"You'd better watch out, You'd better not cry, You'd better not pout I'm telling you why..."  
  
Here he paused for a minute, looking around the room before settling his gaze back on Eric. "Santa Claus is coming to town," he concluded, letting his features settle into his usual intimidating expression.  
  
"That's right Eric," Vaughn said with a grin. "He sees you when you're sleeping..."  
  
"He knows when you're awake," Dixon added.  
  
"Yeah yeah, he knows if I've been bad or good so I'd better be good for goodness sake Does this mean no more Santa jokes?" he asked plaintively.  
  
"Do you value your life Mr. Weiss?" Jack asked in a foreboding voice.  
  
"So! Anyone else up to a snowball fight?" Eric asked, trying desperately to draw attention away from himself. Judging from the laughter surrounding him, he didn't quite succeed.  
  
"A snowball fight?" Dixon asked, his eyes lighting up. "I haven't had one of those in years. Dianne always liked to go someplace warm for the holidays."  
  
"Count me in," Vaughn said once he finished laughing.  
  
"And me!" Sydney chimed in, going to the closet to get everyone's coat. "Anyone else?" she asked, looking around.  
  
"I think I'm out for this year," Carrie said with a smile.  
  
"And I'll stay here with you... if that's ok with you that is. I'm not saying you need company..."  
  
"Marshall, it's fine," she said, rolling her eyes good-naturedly.  
  
"I doubt this suit should get wet Sydney," Jack replied dryly. "I'll keep your guests occupied while the four of you play in the snow."  
  
"What about you Lauren?" Sydney asked, looking at the other woman quizzically. "Care to join in?"  
  
"No, that's ok. I'll just stay in here and keep warm," she said.  
  
"Ok!! Last one out there has to be on Weiss' team!" Sydney hollered as she raced out the door.  
  
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean??" Eric asked indignantly as he followed after her.  
  
"Are you sure you don't want to join us Lauren?" Vaughn asked uncertainly.  
  
"I'm sure. As much as I love looking at snow, I don't really enjoy getting cold playing in it."  
  
"Maybe I should stay with you then..."  
  
"No, don't let me keep you from having fun. You guys go play, I'll sit and talk with Carrie. Someone's got to keep the poor girl sane, I can't leave her alone with Jack and Marshall," she said, pushing him toward the door.  
  
"Well, if you're sure..."  
  
"I'm sure! Just make sure you win."  
  
"Was there any doubt?" he asked, flashing her a grin as he raced outside to join the others.  
  
"You're the last one Vaughn, you have to be Eric's partner!" Sydney teased.  
  
"I still don't get why that's some big punishment," Eric muttered.  
  
"Watch this Eric... keep her distracted," Vaughn ordered softly, casually bending down to scoop up some snow.  
  
"I mean, what's the big deal? Are you saying I'm not a good snowball fight person?" he asked smoothly. "I'll have you know I was once the celebrated snowball fight person of Calaveras County!"  
  
"That's the Notorious Jumping Frog of Calaveras County, and it's a story by Mark Twain," Dixon pointed out.  
  
"Thank you Dixon," Sydney said.  
  
"Well whatever. I'm just saying that I've got some mad snowball skillz. I can roll em and throw em faster than you can believe! Why..."  
  
"Weiss, why don't you shut your mouth and show us these snowball skillz as you called them, you white boy rapper wannabe," Sydney taunted.  
  
"Because that's my job," Vaughn replied, hitting her in the chest with a perfectly aimed snowball.  
  
"Pfft.. pff..." Sydney said, spitting some snow out of her mouth. "That's it, this means war," she warned the two men who were rolling on the ground, holding their sides in laughter. "Are you ready for this Dixon?" she asked her former and now current partner.  
  
"Does it look like I'm ready?" he asked, tossing a snowball up in the air and catching it again with a devilish grin .  
  
"Let's get 'em!" she shouted, bending down to form a snowball and throw it at Vaughn in one smooth motion.  
  
"Hey!" he hollered, jumping off the ground.  
  
"We've got you now guys," she yelled, picking up more snow and throwing it at Weiss.  
  
"I want to throw up a white flag!" he begged, holding up his hands against the onslaught of snowballs coming his way from both Sydney and Dixon.  
  
"Oh no you don't! It's too late for that," she told him.  
  
"Isn't there anyway I can win?" he whined.  
  
"Not a chance," she said as she bent over for more snow.  
  
Five seconds later she knocked flat on her back in the snow when Vaughn came rushing at her. "No way at all?" he teased.  
  
"Vaughn!! You... you... you snuck up on me! That's not fair!" she protested, the laughter in her eyes showing how little she minded.  
  
"Oh, you think that's not fair? Just wait till you see what else I've got in store for you," he said, grabbing a handful of snow and rubbing it in her face. "Alright Miss Bristow, who wins?"  
  
"You do, you do!" she answered breathlessly, peals of laughter escaping as she squirmed underneath him.  
  
The laughter drew the attention of the four agents inside in the warm house. "What are they doing out there?" Carrie asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.  
  
"Just playing," Lauren said from her vantage point by the window.  
  
"It sounds like someone just got wrestled to the ground," Carrie surmised.  
  
"That would be Sydney," Lauren answered softly, unable to take her eyes from the scene outside. There was still a light dusting of snowflakes coming down, and Dixon and Weiss were watching and laughing as Sydney and Michael wrestled around in the snow, each trying to gain the upper hand.  
  
Finally Michael rolled off her and pulled her up. The sounds had faded, but it was clear from watching that they were both still laughing. Their faces were red with exertion and their eyes were sparkling with merriment.  
  
"It's hard to know what to do isn't it?" Jack asked quietly, surprising her.  
  
"What?"  
  
"When you know you can't have everything you want. It's hard to know what to do, isn't it?" he asked, understanding shining in his eyes.  
  
"I'm not sure what you mean Jack," she replied uneasily. But she did, and for the first time she realized that she might not get her Christmas wish. 


	5. All Snug in Their Beds

Chapter 4: All Snug in Their Beds  
  
"Are you ready to give up yet?" Vaughn asked, standing over Sydney with a grin so huge it almost split his face in two.  
  
"Give up? Never!" she exclaimed, rolling over and grabbing another handful of snow.  
  
"Well that's too bad. I guess I'll just have to keep all the cocoa for myself then," he said nonchalantly as he headed toward the door of the cabin.  
  
"Cocoa? Wait a minute!" she said, jumping to her feet.  
  
"Yeah, I brought stuff to make cocoa, but you don't seem to want any... too bad, I was looking forward to sitting next to you in front of a warm fire drinking cocoa... I guess I'll just have to enjoy it alone."  
  
"No, no you don't!" she insisted. "I'll share it with you!"  
  
"Ah, but you know the conditions Sydney," he said, a teasing glint in his eyes.  
  
"Conditions?" she said, feigning confusion. "I know of no conditions."  
  
"If you want cocoa, you must repeat after me. I Sydney Bristow..."  
  
"I Sydney Bristow..." she repeated, enjoying every minute of their game.  
  
"Do admit without reservation or coercion..."  
  
"Do admit without reservation or coercion..."  
  
"That Michael Vaughn is the king of snowball fights..."  
  
"That Michael Vaughn is the king of snowball fights..." she said with a grimace.  
  
"And I am only a humble apprentice."  
  
"Hey!" she said indignantly, drawing to a halt just outside the door.  
  
"Did I mention I brought marshmallows?"  
  
"All right all right... And I am only a humble apprentice," she said grudgingly.  
  
"Good girl!" he said approvingly, holding the door open for her.  
  
"Do I get a prize?" she asked slyly.  
  
"Hm... what did you have in mind?" he asked, pulling her close.  
  
"Oh, I think you've got a pretty good idea," she whispered, her mouth only inches from his.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Uh? Wha..." Sydney muttered, rolling over in her sleep. "Vaughn?" she mumbled, wrapping her arms around her spare pillow. "Hmm... wait, this is too cold to be Vaughn," she realized as she woke up.  
  
"What a dream!" she said as she sat up in bed, taking in her surroundings and the snow that still covered the ground outside her window. "Too bad that'll never happen," she added as she lay back down, trying to get comfortable. "Oh well, maybe I'll dream something even better this time."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Drew, Lexi, what are you two up to?" Vaughn asked the two blonde children who were slowly approaching him from either side.  
  
"Nothing Daddy," the little girl said innocently, keeping her hands behind her back.  
  
"Drew?"  
  
"We're not up to anything Daddy," he answered, managing to keep his face solemn.  
  
"Really? Then I guess I should feel bad for this..." Vaughn said as he quickly bent over, forming two snowballs and launching them in quick succession at his children.  
  
"Daddy!" they squealed in unison, throwing their hands up and dropping the snowballs they were holding.  
  
"Oh, you weren't so innocent after all," Vaughn declared haughtily, pointing to the snowballs on the ground.  
  
"It was Lexi's idea Daddy," Drew insisted, pointing a chubby finger at his twin sister.  
  
"Nuh-uh Drew! You said Daddy would never 'spect us!" Lexi reminded him.  
  
"Well you two munchkins know what the penalty is for trying to throw a snowball at Daddy, don't you?"  
  
"Noooooooooo!" they both screamed, running as fast as their little legs would carry them.  
  
They couldn't outrun their father though, and pretty soon the three of them were a pile of giggling bodies, squirming on the ground. "Do you admit that no one can win a snowball fight against Daddy?" Vaughn asked, tickling them both mercilessly.  
  
"Yes! Yes!!" they both said, gasping for air as they laughed.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Michael Vaughn woke up, a wide smile crossing his face. That was hands down the best dream he'd had in a while. He'd always wanted children... he'd wanted children with Sydney.  
  
His smile faded when he remembered why he hadn't had dreams like that lately. First Sydney had died, and then when she came back he was married to someone else. He didn't always succeed, but he tried to repress all the hopes and dreams he'd had of being with Sydney. It wasn't fair to his wife.  
  
Feeling himself start to slip into a mild depression, he rose quietly from the bed, trying not to disturb Lauren as he pulled on a pair of sweats and wandered down into the living room, shivering against the chill. After turning on the radiant heat and the Christmas tree lights, he crossed the room to stand by the window.  
  
As he watched the moonlight reflect off the new-fallen snow, he tried to pin down what it was that disturbed him so much about this dream. It wasn't that he'd never dreamt about being with Sydney again; sometimes it seemed like that was all he did dream about. Something about this one was different though.  
  
"The twins were so cute," he said, a slight smile crossing his face as he remembered the tow-headed children he'd wrestled with. He'd had white- blonde hair as a child himself, so that wasn't surprising. And they'd had their mother's brown eyes and dimples...  
  
He stopped when he realized this was what was bothering him. "I never saw their mother. I don't know if it was Sydney or Lauren," he groaned, resting his face against the glass. "But that's not what hurts the most. I've always wanted to have children, but never once have I pictured Lauren as their mother."  
  
Michael Vaughn stared out the window, realizing that yet another dream had vanished. As he mourned the loss of those beautiful children—his Drew and Lexi—a solitary tear rolled down his face.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Run, run, as fast as you can  
  
You can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man!"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Lauren awoke with a start, those words echoing in her mind. "What a strange dream," she thought. "Why on earth would I be chasing my own husband, and why would I dream of him as the Gingerbread Man?" she wondered as she reached across the bed for her husband.  
  
Her brow furrowed in puzzlement when she felt only cold sheets. Michael was up, and had been for a while, but why? Tossing the covers aside, she grabbed her robe and crept quietly down the stairs, following the faint glow coming from the living room.  
  
What she saw when she peered around the door put a lump in her throat. Her husband—her rock—was staring out at the fresh snow, a single tear track visible in the light coming from the Christmas tree.  
  
Coming to a quick decision, she slipped back up the stairs. "I can't let him know I saw him like that," she realized before turning around to go back down. "Michael!" she called out. "Where are you?"  
  
By the time she reached the living room again, the tear had been wiped from his face and he was sitting on the couch, watching television. "There you are Michael," she said. "I woke up and you weren't in bed. Are you going to come back up?"  
  
"No... I had a dream, that's what woke me up." he said, staring at the screen.  
  
"Oh, a nightmare?" she asked, giving him a sympathetic look when he glanced over at her.  
  
"No," he thought, averting his eyes again, "it was wonderful. I'm afraid if I have it again I'll never want to wake up." "Yeah, something like that," he said aloud.  
  
Lauren realized he wasn't meeting her gaze and knew he was lying, but why? Why would he lie about having a nightmare... unless he didn't want her to realize how much he wanted the dream to come true. She stared at him for a moment, willing him to give her some sign, any sign, that this was not the case.  
  
Despite the noise from the early morning talk show, the silence between husband and wife was palpable. The knot that had started in her stomach as she'd watched the snowball fight expanded until she thought she'd throw up. Finally she looked away, not wanting him to see the bitter reality that was finally settling across her features. "I think I'll go back to bed, I'll see you in the morning," she said brusquely, not waiting for a response as she swept up the stairs. 


	6. There's No Place Like Home

Chapter 5: There's No Place Like Home...  
  
"I wonder if Michael ever got to sleep last night," Lauren murmured sleepily as she wandered downstairs on Christmas Eve for her morning cup of coffee.  
  
"Hi honey," Michael said when he saw her. He was dressed in a suit and tie, clearly ready for work.  
  
"Where are you going?" she asked as he shoved his arms into his winter coat.  
  
"Work."  
  
Lauren's eyebrows flew up in surprise. "But it's Saturday—and Christmas Eve," she reminded him.  
  
"I have some paperwork to finish this morning. I'll be home around 2:00 and then I'm yours until Monday."  
  
"Well, at least let me make you some coffee," she offered as she walked into the kitchen where she saw a pot brewing. "Oh..."  
  
"Yeah, I thought I'd make you a fresh pot before leaving," he said as eh stepped around her to grab his Starbucks travel cup.  
  
"How long have you been up?"  
  
"I wasn't able to get back to sleep," he answered quietly.  
  
Lauren almost believed him until she saw the slight tremor in his hands. "He didn't want to go back to sleep," she realized. "He was so determined to stay up that he drank a whole pot of caffeinated coffee."  
  
Aloud, she simply said, "All right then, I'll see you when you get home. Get that paperwork done quickly."  
  
"I will," he promised as he stepped out the door.  
  
She was still staring at the door long after he'd left. "Well this is not how I pictured spending our first Christmas together," she muttered, turning to pour herself a cup of coffee. "For that matter, marriage itself isn't turning out to be what I had in mind."  
  
Taking a seat at the kitchen table, she allowed herself to remember how she had thought it would go. "I remember when I used to play house and dress up like every other little girl. My dream husband always rode up on a white horse to save me from the terrible things in life, like having to eat peas for supper. He was always there exactly when I needed him and he never let me down. He was sweet and kind and he smelled nice... that was particularly important when I was five years old," she reminisced with a smile.  
  
"Of course I had to grow up. People let me down and I stopped believing in Prince Charming... until I met Michael. Despite how sad he was, he was almost exactly what I'd always dreamed of. I was certain that I could make him happy, that we would be happy together."  
  
"But that was Before Sydney," she said, frowning into her empty coffee cup. "I hate how my entire life has been divided into two categories: Before Sydney and After Sydney," she grumbled as she rinsed her mug out and set it down in the sink. "He was happy Before, I know he was," she insisted, leaning against the counter with her eyes closed. "I could see it in his eyes on our wedding day... but everything changed After."  
  
She stared out the window at the white lawn for a moment before pushing back. "This is just depressing," she muttered. "I need to go get dressed."  
  
But even as she pulled out clothes and took a shower, her mind wouldn't let up on her. "Our wedding day was the happiest day of my life, I wonder if it was for him?" she mused as she brushed her teeth. "Or is there another day, something connected to Sydney, that holds that place in his heart?"  
  
Even as she asked the question, she knew the answer. In the months since Sydney had returned, she had seen brief glimpses of the man he had been Before. There were times when he almost forgot who he was now and simply allowed himself to be. The joy that would cross his face at those times was indescribable.  
  
"He always remembers though," she told herself. "No matter what, he always remembers who he is now... and then his smile disappears for days. He never tells me what's wrong, but I always know. He's been thinking about what life was like before she "died" again—the sadness in his eyes gives him away."  
  
He had been wearing the same weary, sad expression early this morning when she found him after his dream. As soon as she realized that, a knot formed in the pit of her stomach. "Is that why he wouldn't tell me what his dream was about? Was he dreaming about... her?"  
  
After she said it, the pieces fell into place. It hadn't been a nightmare, but he hadn't wanted to fall back into the same dream. He'd refused to tell her what it was. If it wasn't bad, the only reason he would be afraid of it was if it was so wonderful, it broke his heart that it was unattainable. The image of that solitary tear flashed into her mind's eye and she knew she was right.  
  
"He's not happy... he's not happy at all," she said, sinking to the bed in shock. "All this time I thought that if I gave him time or held on to him harder he would realize that I can make him happy, but what if I can't? What if all I'm doing is making him more miserable than he was before?  
  
"You know, come to think of it, I'm not that happy either!" she said, sitting upright on the bed. "In fact, this whole week has just shown me how unhappy I really am. What kind of marriage do I have if I feel like I have to remind my husband who he belongs with? What kind of mouse have I become if I accept that as normal?" she ranted as she yanked her suitcase out of the closet.  
  
Throwing it on the bed, she started tossing clothes into it. "It's time to take back control of my own life... I thought going to the party would do that but instead it just showed me how out of control it really is. The only way I can get my life back is to sever it from Michael's."  
  
Realizing what she'd just said and what she was doing, she sat down hard on the bed. "Sever it from Michael's? Do I really want to do that?" she questioned, almost frightened by the change she was making. Shaking her head, she started to pull clothes out of her bag, but then she remembered what they'd looked like the night before, playing in the snow.  
  
Strengthening her resolve, she added some toiletries and snapped the suitcase shut. "It's time to go," she said quietly as picked up a clean piece of stationary and began to write a letter to her husband. Twenty minutes later, she wiped the tears from her face, folded the letter, and started down the stairs, bag in hand.  
  
Lauren stopped in the living room before leaving, taking one last look around to make sure there wasn't anything else she couldn't live without for the next two weeks. When her gaze fell on the snow globe sitting next to the poinsettia atop the mantel, she smiled involuntarily.  
  
The snow globe had been the first Christmas gift Michael had given her. Inside was a young couple taking a walk in the snow. She'd been so taken with it that she insisted on displaying it all year around, not just at Christmas time.  
  
Making a quick decision, Lauren crossed the room and placed the snow globe in her bag, setting Michael's note in its place. "I'm sorry Michael," she whispered as she walked out the front door.  
  
Vaughn got home at exactly 2:00 that afternoon, and he knew something was wrong the minute he walked in the door. The house was too still. It was normally quiet, that wasn't unusual. Lauren wasn't supposed to be home for another couple of hours so it wasn't the lack of company that surprised him.  
  
No, more than that it seemed... empty. As if the stillness was seeping into every room, taking away the things that made it a home. With practiced eyes, he glanced around the room, looking for anything out of place. Everything seemed to be in order until...  
  
When he saw that the snow globe was missing, he knew. Crossing the room swiftly, he picked up the note that was resting in its place, not wanting to read it, not needing to see the words to know what it said. She was gone.  
  
He unfolded it anyway, hoping against hope that he was wrong... or was he hoping that he was right? Either way he began to read.  
  
"Dear Michael,  
  
By the time you read this, I'll be on a plane back to Virginia. I'm going to spend Christmas with my parents and then I'll come back in January to get the rest of my things.  
  
Our marriage isn't working Michael, it hasn't been for a long time. I know that if I let you, you would continue to tell both of us that we can fix this, that we can get past this bump in the road, but we can't.  
  
Before you say it, we're not breaking the vows we made to each other. At the heart of those vows lay the promise to always put the other person first, to do what is right instead of what is easy, to make our joint happiness more important individual triumphs.  
  
Love, honor, cherish. Words that not too long ago held such promise for the future. They went along with phrases like, "As long as you both shall live," painting a picture of an idyllic life. But now I know it was a mirage, one that vanished when another phrase became impossible to follow: "Forsaking all others."  
  
Did you know that you talk in your sleep? It's a dangerous trait for a spy to have, you never know what will slip out when you're unconscious. You talk about her. No, that's not right... you simply say her name in this low, longing voice. If sadness could be expressed in one word, that would be it.  
  
Sydney. Strange how one soft sound whispered in half sleep could drown out our wedding vows, and yet it has. Her name shattered my vision of the future, and not even all the king's horses and all the king's men could put it back together again.  
  
That is why I'm leaving. Together, we are miserable. Yes, I love you and I love being with you, but that's not what is most important. I am putting your needs first, and you can't have what you need most if you are married to me... and I can't have what I need most if I'm not what you need most.  
  
Don't put me on a pedestal Michael. I'm not doing this just so you can be with Sydney, I'm doing this because I deserve more than a husband who is in love with another woman. And don't feel guilty for what happened either. There is no way you could ever have expected her to come back, but she did. The instant you learned she was alive, the rules of engagement changed. That is the simple truth of the matter.  
  
Good-bye Michael... be happy."  
  
Vaughn stared at the letter for a moment, waiting for the pain to come. After a moment, he realized it wasn't going to. No matter how hard he tried, he could feel only relief. Finally, this nightmare would be over... for all of them. 


End file.
